From the 27th of July till the 9th of August, I remained in the valley of Nubra, the necessary preparations for my further journey, which was to be entirely through an uninhabited country, requiring considerable time. During this interval, I moved from place to place in the valley, which is well inhabited and rather pretty. The river is in the hot months very large and rapid, and has its origin, no doubt, in the great snowy mountains to the north. I crossed it twice a little above the town of Chirasa, and found its current quite as strong as that of the Shayuk, and in many places as deep, but its breadth was considerably less. In one of the channels, a lad, carrying a light bundle, was carried away by the stream, and rolled over repeatedly in the water, after being separated from his load, before he was picked up by a number of men who hastened to his assistance. The difficulty of crossing was much increased by numerous quicksands, which made it necessary to proceed by a tortuous path, and which were evidently very liable to shift, as the guides proceeded very cautiously, and more than once abandoned a ford on finding the footing insecure.

The general appearance of the valley of Nubra is very agreeable, and superior to that of any other part of Tibet at the same elevation. The villages are well wooded, with orchards of apricot-trees, and with poplars and willows, which are either planted in rows, or scattered irregularly in meadows on the skirts of the cultivated lands: the willows, when not pollarded, attain a large size, and afford an ample shade. The fields are carefully enclosed with walls, or hedges of Hippophaë, or with a fence of the dead branches of that plant. Green and shady lanes, bordered by high Hippophaë hedges, full of Clematis and rose-bushes, lead through the village lands. The crops are chiefly wheat and barley, with a few fields of millet (Panicum miliaceum), buckwheat, and rape. There is also much pasture, particularly along the little streams, and in fields near the river, which are often swampy.

The beauty of the cultivated tracts is much enhanced by the utter sterility of the drier parts of the plain, which are either gravelly or stony, and utterly barren, except that occasionally from some peculiarity of soil or position there is a considerable extent of clayey soil not low enough to be swampy, but not remote from water, covered with short turf much encrusted with soda. These grassy plains are more common in the upper part of the district, and are perhaps connected with springs containing carbonate of soda in solution[23].

Except from the more advanced period of the season, the flora of Nubra differed but little from that of Le. Species of Artemisia, Labiatæ, and Chenopodiaceæ, were now in full flower on the more desert and stony tracts, in which a shrubby Lycium (which is not found on the Indus) was also common. Chenopodiaceæ had become extremely plentiful, and belonged to many different genera: shrubby species of Eurotia and Caroxylon were common, but the greater number were herbaceous, and belonged to the genera Chenopodium, Ambrina, Salsola, Echinopsilon, and Corispermum. A species of thistle grew on barren soil, particularly where the ground was saline; on the salt soil, Glaux, a little Crucifera, and a Polygonum were the most abundant plants. Mulgedium Tataricum, a Galium (very like G. Aparine), and a scandent species of Vincetoxicum, were frequent in hedges; and species of Mentha, Erodium, Epilobium, Lepidium, and Matthiola, all common plants at Le, being now in full flower, attracted notice more than at an earlier period. A very tall species of grass (Melica?) in large and elegant tufts, often six feet high, was one of the most ornamental plants in the valley; while as uncommon forms I may enumerate a prickly Sophora, Orobanche, Parietaria, and in ponds a little Utricularia, closely resembling a European species.

A small-leaved elm, which is common near Tagar, is apparently wild,—at least it is not acknowledged by the inhabitants as a cultivated tree. I have not observed this tree elsewhere in Tibet, but Mr. Vigne mentions that he met with an elm in the mountains between Shigar and Khapalu. It appears to be the same with a species common in the forests of the lower valleys of Kashmir.

About a mile from the large village of Panamik are the hot springs formerly visited by Moorcroft. They are two in number, and spring from the rocky mountain-side, about a hundred yards from the edge of the plain. The temperature of the water in the spring which I tried was 170·5°. It was faintly sulphurous both in taste and smell, but not perceptibly saline, and deposited a thick calcareous incrustation on everything within its reach.

To the south of Panamik the rocks of Nubra are chiefly black slate, but transported blocks of granite are everywhere common, and at that village the latter rock descends to the level of the river, and continues to form the whole mass of the mountains on the left side of the valley as far as I continued along it. On the right side there were indications of stratification on the steep sides of the mountains, and, from the colour, the rock there appeared to be partly granite and partly metamorphic slate.

CHAPTER XIV.

Start for Karakoram—Steep ascent out of Nubra valley—Meet a party of Merchants from Yarkand—View from summit of pass—Rapid torrent—Large glacier—Steep moraines—Alpine vegetation—Numerous glaciers—Lakes—Glacier on crest of Sassar pass—Sassar—Cross Shayuk river—Murgai—Limestone rocks—Ascend Murgai Valley to 16,800 feet—Singular limestone formation—Open plain above 17,000 feet—Re-cross Shayuk river—Karakoram pass—Return to Sassar—Glaciers of Sassar—Return to Le—Start for Kashmir—Lamayura—Phatu pass—Kanji river—Namika pass—Molbil Pashkyum—Kargil—Dras—Zoji pass—Kashmir—Lahore—Completion of journey.

Having at last completed the preparations necessary for a journey of twenty days through uninhabited regions, I started on the 9th of August from the village of Taksha. My first day's journey lay up the Nubra valley, which continued wide, though the alluvial platforms were destitute of cultivation, and quite barren. In several places (always opposite to ravines) they were covered with enormous boulders, which had all the appearance of having been brought to the position they occupied by glaciers. Two small villages were seen, both on the west bank of the river. Four miles from Taksha I crossed, by a good wooden bridge, a large stream which descended from the mountains on my right hand through an exceedingly rocky gorge. After seven miles and a half, I found that I had reached the point at which the road followed by the merchants in travelling from Le to Yarkand leaves the valley of Nubra. It was too late in the day to attempt the ascent of the ridge to the right; I therefore encamped in a grove of willows, which formed a belt along the margin of a stream whose bed was now quite dry, its scanty supply of water having been diverted into an artificial channel for the irrigation of a couple of fields of indifferent barley not far off.

In the valley of Nubra, beyond this encamping ground, which is known by the name of Changlung, there are, I believe, only three small villages, the most distant of which appeared to be not more than five or six miles off. In the direction of the valley, which was still north-north-west, very lofty mountains were visible at no great distance, all with snowy tops, and generally with heavy snow-beds and glaciers in their hollows; and according to the statement of my guides, the river at the distance of less than two days' journey issues from beneath a glacier, by which all passage is stopped[24].

On the 10th of August I started at daybreak, immediately commencing the ascent of the mountain range which enclosed the valley on the east. The mountain was exceedingly steep, indeed almost precipitous, and the road proceeded in a zigzag direction over bare granite rock, with scarce a vestige of vegetation. During the ascent I had a good view of the valley, and of the mountain range which bounded it on the south-west; large patches of snow lay on its peaks, and here and there I saw a small glacier in its ravines. The upper part of the valleys by which these mountains were furrowed had a very moderate slope, but from about 14,000 feet down to the bottom they were extremely abrupt.

After about 3500 feet of extremely laborious climbing, I arrived at a small level plain, perhaps two hundred yards long and forty or fifty wide, evidently much frequented as a resting-place by travellers, a small pool of water being the inducement. I here met a party of merchants on their way from Yarkand to Le. Their goods were conveyed by ponies, apparently much exhausted by their long journey through desert country. I had noticed, on the way up the mountain, that the road was lined by numerous skeletons and scattered bones of horses; I had also seen one or two of the same animals recently dead, and the appearance of these loaded ponies enabled me to understand the cause of the great mortality. Many of the unfortunate animals appeared scarcely to have strength to accomplish the few miles of descent which still intervened between them and plenty of food. The main reliance of the merchants for the support of their horses is on corn carried with them, to which there must be a limit, otherwise they would carry nothing but their own food.

From this halting-place the remainder of the ascent was less abrupt, though still steep and extremely stony. There was, however, a little more vegetation than on the lower part, where the barren rocks, except at the very base, produced scarcely anything but Ephedra, a dwarf species of Rhamnus, and tufts of the hardy Statice. Higher up, several species of Astragalus and Artemisia were plentiful, with Lithospermum euchromon, Dracocephalum heterophyllum, and several Chenopodiaceæ and grasses. The top of the ridge had an elevation of 15,300 feet, but from its extreme aridity and rockiness, and its consequent elevated temperature, no alpine plants occurred. On reaching the top I was able to see something of the road before me, regarding which I had previously had little information, except in accounts of its extreme difficulty. These I had been inclined to consider exaggerated, but the prospect before me was undoubtedly far from tempting. Immediately below lay a narrow stony valley, to which, from the spot on which I stood, the descent was almost perpendicular. Opposite to me there was a range of mountains higher than that on which I stood, with here and there a patch of snow. The valley below me was partly occupied by a mass of loose alluvial conglomerate, through which the stream had excavated a deep ravine; its direction was south-south-west, and there could be no doubt that the stream which I had crossed the day before, about half-way, was that which drained the valley upon which I now looked down. On the top of the alluvial platform, on the opposite side, there was a narrow strip of green, indicating a small patch of cultivation, without, however, any habitation, the crop being apparently left to its fate till ready for the reaper. In every other direction, stones and snow were alone visible.

I descended obliquely into the valley, so as to reach it about a mile and a half higher up than the spot from which it was first visible. The descent was very laborious, a great part of it being covered with loose gravel or coarse sand, produced by the disintegration of the granite rocks. There was rather more vegetation than on the opposite face, and I collected a number of plants which I had not recently met with; a Nepeta, Scrophularia, Cicer, and Heracleum, and two shrubby Potentillæ, were the commonest species. One of the species of Potentilla (P. discolor of Jacquemont) was remarkable for exciting violent sneezing when touched or shaken; this curious property seemed to be owing to a very fine dust which covered the under surface of the leaves.

After reaching the surface of the alluvial platform overhanging the stream, about half a mile of gentle ascent among large stones brought me, after a journey of ten miles, to my encamping ground. This was a level spot, close to a lateral torrent, which had its source in a snow-bed in the mountains on the left, and was rushing in a most impetuous milk-white torrent over immense boulders, to unite itself to the main stream. The elevation of my camp was about 14,000 feet.

On the morning of the 11th, at starting, I crossed the torrent close to camp. Although much less considerable than it had been the previous afternoon, still, from its great rapidity and the number of boulders in its bed, the crossing was not accomplished without difficulty by the laden animals, who carried the greater part of my baggage. I crossed it myself by leaping from boulder to boulder, which would have been quite impossible in the afternoon of the previous day, when it was swollen by the action of the sun upon the snow. The road lay up the valley parallel to the river, among a most extraordinary accumulation of granite boulders of all sizes, from one to ten feet in diameter, piled upon one another in vast heaps, and evidently transported by a former glacier. After about half a mile, I crossed the river by a wooden bridge of two or three beams, which must have been brought from Nubra for the purpose, as no timber of any sort grows in the valley. The stream was very rapid and muddy. A mile further, a torrent descending from the mountains on the right was crossed, and soon after I got upon the bank of the main stream, now more tranquil and fordable. The road for the remainder of the march lay along its left bank, over boulders and gravel, ascending now and then a little way on steep sloping banks, entirely composed of transported materials. I encamped on a level, somewhat grassy spot of ground, which was evidently commonly used as a halting-place, having travelled only four and a half miles, an unnecessarily short day's work. I had throughout my journey had considerable difficulty in fixing the marches at proper lengths, the inhabitants having no measure of distance but the day's journey. In the present instance, my tent was pitched, and most of the party had commenced to cook, or were dispersed to collect fuel, long before my arrival, so that I was obliged to rest content for the day.

The course travelled during the day had been north-north-east, but I had evidently arrived nearly as far as was practicable in that direction, for about half a mile in front was the bluff end of a very large glacier, filling up the continuation of the valley. This glacier, which was nearly half a mile wide, was covered almost entirely with stones and earth, very little of its surface being visible, and the dirty black colour of its terminating cliff showing how much soil had been mixed up with it in its progress. The elevation of my tent was about 14,500 feet, and the termination of the glacier may have been 250 feet higher. All around the mountains were very lofty, their tops covered with snow, which nowhere came within 2000 feet at least of the valley, even on northern exposures. Granite was everywhere the prevailing rock, but on the higher mountain slopes, which were often precipitous, it was much intermixed with a dark rock, probably clay-slate.

During the day I had scarcely seen any vegetation, except when close to the edge of the stream. Among the boulders and on the bare stony ground there was frequently not a vestige of herbage. Near one of the ravines I found the white shrubby Potentilla, along with an exceedingly pretty prostrate plant, with bright rose-coloured flowers, belonging to the order of Compositæ: it was a species of the genus Allardia, described by M. Decaisne from the collections of Jacquemont, by whom it was found in Piti. One of the very few alpine plants which I saw during the day was a little gentian, common among the turf close to my tent. Round camp a species of nettle was plentiful, seemingly, like others of the genus, attracted by the nitrogenous nature of the soil of an encamping ground much frequented by shepherds with their flocks. The sting of this nettle, though rather faint, was quite perceptible. It was decidedly an alpine plant, which is rather uncommon, not only in the genus, but the order to which it belongs.

The journey of the 12th of August commenced by a steep ascent into a lateral valley descending from the eastward. The hill-side up which I climbed (apparently the bluff termination of an ancient moraine) was very stony and dry. When a sufficient elevation above my encampment had been gained, I obtained a commanding view of the glacier which occupied the continuation of the main valley. It was nearly straight, and, as I believe, at least five or six miles long; distances, however, are so difficult to estimate on snow, that this must be regarded as a mere guess. The inclination of its surface was considerable; but, while the distance remained doubtful, no just estimate of the height of the ridge from which it descended could be made. On each side, two or three lateral glaciers, descending from the mountains by which it was enclosed, contributed to increase its size, all loaded with heaps of stones, which had at the lower end of the central glacier so accumulated as completely to cover its whole surface.

After 800 or 1000 feet of ascent I found that I had attained the level of the lateral valley, along which the road ran, and that the remainder of the way was much more gentle, but exceedingly fatiguing, from its excessive roughness, and from the great elevation, which made the slightest exertion difficult. On both sides were high ranges of mountains, which had much snow on their summits, and in one or two ravines there was a small snow-bed or incipient glacier, but the distance from the crest of the ridge not being great, no glacier of any length was formed. On the left hand, the mountains were steeper and higher than those on the right, and several bulky glaciers on very steep slopes occupied their ravines. None of these entered the valley along which my road lay, but their moraines often projected to its very centre, forming immense piles of angular fragments of rocks, which attained, in more than one place, a height of several hundred feet, and indicated that the glaciers had at some former period advanced much further than they now do. The main valley was itself everywhere covered with boulders; in some places large blocks, ten to twenty feet in diameter, were arranged at moderate distances from one another, but more frequently the fragments were all small.

After the first steep ascent, the slope of the valley was uniformly gentle, except when a steep-sided moraine had to be passed. Latterly a few small patches of snow occurred in the valley. I encamped at 16,600 feet, on a level grassy spot of ground close to a small circular plain resembling the bed of a lake, and still partially covered with snow. The snow level on the mountains to the south had approached within less than one hundred feet of the level of the plain. Though the distance travelled during the day was only six miles, I felt a good deal fatigued, and suffered much from headache, caused by the rarefaction of the air.

From the great quantity of snow on the mountains all around, there had been throughout the day an abundance of moisture, and vegetation was in consequence much more plentiful than usual. The plants were all alpine, and being mostly diminutive, had to be sought in the crevices of rocks, and among the stones which everywhere abounded. The banks of the stream were frequently grassy, and there was a great deal of marshy ground. Most of the plants obtained were in full flower, and the colours were in general very bright, and sufficiently varied. By far the greater part belonged to the same genera which prevail on European mountains, such as Draba, Saxifraga, Sibbaldia, Potentilla, Ranunculus, Papaver, Pedicularis, Cerastium, Leontopodium, and Saussurea. The most remarkable forms were three species of Allardia, several Astragali, a one-flowered Lychnis, Delphinium Brunonianum, and a Ligularia. The alpine nettle was common on many parts of the road, chiefly near places frequented by the shepherds as halting-places.

Next day at starting I proceeded along the edge of the small plain close to which I had been encamped. On the right hand was an ancient moraine, which prevented me from seeing the road in advance. At the upper end of the plain I found a small streamlet running parallel to the moraine; and about a mile from camp I reached the end of a small glacier, from which the streamlet had its origin. Crossing the latter, which was still partially frozen, I ascended in a deep hollow between the left side of the glacier and the moraine. The icy mass had not yet begun to thaw, the temperature being still below freezing. After half a mile I ascended on the surface of the ice, and as soon as I did so, was enabled to see that the glacier had its origin in a ravine on the south, and entered the main valley almost opposite to me. The great body of the ice took a westerly direction, forming the glacier along which I had been travelling; but a portion formed a cliff to the eastward, which dipped abruptly into a small, apparently deep lake. At the distance of perhaps five hundred yards there was another glacier, which descended from a valley in the northern range of mountains, and, like the one on which I stood, presented a perpendicular wall to the little lake. Right and left of the lake were enormous piles of boulders, occupying the interval between its margin and the mountains, or rather filling up a portion of the space which it would otherwise have occupied. Into this very singular hollow I descended, on a steep icy slope, and passing along the northern margin of the lake, ascended on the glacier beyond; as before, between the ice and moraine.

On reaching the surface of the second glacier, I found that a similar but smaller depression lay beyond it to the east, in which also there was a small lake, with another mass of ice beyond it. This third glacier also came from the north, and was a much more formidable mass than those which had already been crossed. It was very steep, and was covered with snow, which was beginning to thaw more than was convenient. When at the highest part, I found that though apparently nearly level, it sloped downwards sensibly, though very slightly for nearly half a mile, in an easterly direction. It was evident that I had now reached the highest part of the ascent, and that the crest of the pass was covered by this glacier. I did not make any observation to determine its altitude, but the ascent from camp was very moderate, not, I think, exceeding a thousand feet. Assuming this estimate to be correct, the height of the pass would be about 17,600 feet, which I believe will prove not far from the truth.

On so icy an ascent vegetation could not be expected to be plentiful; still, even in the depressions between the glaciers, the crevices among the boulders produced a few plants, mostly the same as those observed the day before, but three species of Saussurea were the most common of all. Before arriving at the first glacier, the beautiful Primula collected on the pass above Le was met with in great abundance.

For about half a mile, as I have said, the slope of the glacier was just perceptible; beyond that distance the descent was abrupt. On reaching the end of the level portion, I obtained an excellent view to the eastward, in which direction a wide valley was seen at a distance of several miles. Through this valley, from left to right, ran a considerable river, which proved to be the Shayuk. Beyond the river, rocky mountains were seen, apparently nearly as high as those near at hand, and perfectly barren. In descending from the pass, I soon left the surface of the ice, which, as soon as the slope became abrupt, was too rugged to be walked over. I then got upon the moraine; about half-way down, the glacier, which had latterly been almost entirely covered with debris, came to an end, but a moraine continued a long way down, and the remainder of the descent was very stony. I encamped at about 15,400 feet on a dry gravelly plain, close to the broad valley of the Shayuk, but at least 500 feet above it. To the right, in a very deep ravine, was a small stream, on the banks of which were patches of snow. The name of the ground on which I encamped, which is a usual halting-place, was Sassar, and the Turki merchants call the pass also by the same name.

From Sassar not more than three or four miles of the upward course of the river were visible, but within that distance three glaciers were in sight. Two of these stopped short of the valley, while the third, which was at the most distant point visible, appeared to descend to the river. An enormous precipice, which must have been at least 3000 feet in height, rose on the opposite side of the valley beyond the glaciers. Downward the valley of the Shayuk was seen for nearly ten miles, as a wide gravelly plain, with high rugged mountains on both sides.

On the morning after my arrival at Sassar, it was snowing slightly at daybreak, and continued to do so till near noon. The snow melted almost immediately on the level ground, but on the mountain-sides it lay all day, down as low as the level of my tent. The afternoon was dull and stormy, but no more snow fell. This unfavourable weather was of less consequence, because I had determined to halt in order to make fresh arrangements for my baggage, being advised not to take any cattle beyond Sassar, the roads in advance being very bad. I afterwards found that they were gravelly, which is more injurious than even rock to the unprotected feet of the Tibetan bullock.

The gravelly sloping hills round my encampment were covered with abundance of vegetation, but few of the species were alpine, and almost all were familiar to me. A species of Allium, with purple flowers and broad strap-shaped leaves, was the most plentiful of all. Thermopsis was frequent, in fruit; other common plants were species of Artemisia, Cynoglossum, Cicer, and Dracocephalum. The only new species were a very handsome dark purple Nepeta, which grew in large tufts among loose shingle, and a tall Saussurea, by far the largest species of the genus which I had found in Tibet, but I believe one of those described from Jacquemont's collections. A species of Rheum occurred occasionally on dry stony places, but it was the same which I had found several times before.

On the 15th of August I resumed my journey. The morning was misty, with a few flakes of snow at intervals, and the sky remained overcast all day, with high squalls of wind. My road lay across the Shayuk, but I found it necessary to ascend about half a mile on the high bank before I reached a place where it was possible to descend to its gravelly plain, which was more than half a mile wide, and quite destitute of any kind of vegetation. The river was running in several channels, with an average depth of about a foot and a half; in one place only it was as much as two feet. The current ran with considerable rapidity.

On the opposite side of the plain of the Shayuk, I entered an extremely narrow ravine, bounded by precipices of black slate, down which ran a small stream, which crossed at every turn of the ravine from one side to the other, generally close to the rocky wall, and had to be forded a great number of times. After a mile and a half, the road, suddenly quitting the ravine, turned to the right, and ascended by a steep pathway to a wide, very gently rising plain, bounded on both sides by snowy mountains. This plain was partly grassy, but mostly composed of hard dry clay. In a few spots where snow appeared recently to have lain, the clay was soft and treacherous, sinking under the feet. About a mile's walk over this plain brought me to the highest part of it, beyond which it began to slope to the eastward, at first very gently but afterwards more rapidly. Many large isolated boulders were observed on its surface. It was curious to observe that the gravel produced by the disintegration of the mountains (chiefly, I suppose, by snow-slips in winter) differed in colour on the two sides of the valley, and that the line of demarcation followed very closely the centre of the valley. The northern mountains, being granitic, produced a hard quartzy gravel, while those to the south, which were schistose, contributed a dark-coloured gravel of sharp slaty fragments. On the lower part of the descent, a small rivulet made its appearance in the centre of the plain, and I encamped, after nine and a half miles, close to an open valley of considerable size, whose course seemed to be south-east.

This encamping-ground is called by the Turki merchants Murgai, by the Tibetans, Murgo-Chumik; the former name being probably a corruption of the latter. It was the last place at which I was to expect a sufficiency of fuel, or even, with rare exceptions, of grass for my horse, which, though not often used, I was unwilling to leave behind, lest I should by any accident be disabled from walking. The temperature of boiling water here indicated an elevation of about 15,100 feet, but as the weather was stormy and threatening, this was probably several hundred feet more than the truth. A number of springs appeared to break out of the ground close to my tent, where there was a considerable extent of boggy pasture, much greener than is usual at so great an elevation. A few bushes of Myricaria elegans were the only shrubs, but tufts of Artemisia and Eurotia were sufficiently plentiful to produce an abundance of fuel. In the boggy meadow, a pretty little species of Primula was very abundant; the other plants observed were a white Pedicularis, two species of Triglochin, and some Carices and grasses.

The morning of the 16th of August was bright and beautiful, the clouds having been entirely dissipated during the night. The wide valley near which I was encamped descended, as I was informed, to the Shayuk, which it was said to join through a rocky gorge eight or ten miles lower down than Sassar. Along its course the merchants are in the habit of ascending at the season when the valley of the Shayuk is followed all the way from Nubra, which is only practicable in early spring and late in the autumn, at which times that river is fordable throughout. It is a fortunate circumstance for the trade that there is thus a choice of routes, for at these seasons the Sassar pass must be in a great measure blocked up with snow.

On my arrival at Murgai, I had observed that the mountains to the north were very precipitous, and had been puzzled to decide what direction the road might take. On starting, however, I found that it lay along the upward course of the stream which watered the valley before me, and which here issued from the mountains through a very narrow ravine with high precipices on both sides. At first I ascended to the top of a platform of conglomerate which lay at the base of the mountains. The ground was strewed with fragments of limestone, evidently derived from the mountains above; and about half a mile from camp I passed a calcareous spring which had deposited large quantities of tufa throughout the whole of the space between its source and the face of the precipice which overhung the river: the thickness of the incrustation was, in front of the cliff, from six to eight feet. A little further on, the road descended abruptly to the stream, and, after crossing it several times within a few hundred yards, ascended equally abruptly the steep stony slopes on its left bank, at a point where its course, which had previously been nearly north, turned rather suddenly to the eastward. On emerging from the ravine, two small glaciers came in sight almost directly opposite, in branches of a narrow and very deep gorge, which descended from the mountains to the north nearly in the original direction of the ravine. The road ascended to the height of at least 1000 feet, and then proceeded along the steep slopes, alternately ascending and descending over very stony ground, occasionally covered with loose limestone shingle. The stream was visible below, running through a narrow rocky fissure.

After about a mile and a half, the road again descended to the river, now a little wider, with a gravelly channel. Here I found that there were two roads. One of these, for loaded animals, ascended steeply on the north side, to the height of nearly 1000 feet, and again descended very abruptly. The other was in the bed of the stream, which was partially filled up with huge blocks of rock. The stream being almost dry, I took the lower road, which for pedestrians was only objectionable from its great roughness, and because it was necessary to cross the rivulet occasionally. After about a quarter of a mile, the ravine suddenly opened out into a gravelly plain nearly half a mile in width, traversed by numerous branches of the little stream: these were now almost dry, owing to the cloudy weather of the last few days having in a great measure stopped the melting of the glaciers by which they were supplied. Along this open plain I continued for nearly five miles. In one place only it contracted again for a few hundred yards into a gorge full of huge rocky masses heaped one on another, by which it was apparently quite blocked up; this however was avoided by a slight ascent among angular limestone fragments. On descending into the plain again, I observed a very small patch of grassy ground on a bank a few feet above the level of the stream, the only herbage seen during the day. About a mile further on I encamped, after a march of nine miles, on the south side of the plain, on a dry bank elevated four or five feet above its gravelly bed. There was a sudden change in the direction of the valley just at my encamping-ground, its further course being in a direction west of north. The elevation of my tent was very nearly 16,000 feet.

High, rugged, precipitous mountains, with snowy tops, rose on both sides of the road during the whole of this day's journey. The rock throughout the day was limestone, a few thin layers of slate excepted. It varied much in colour, but was generally very dark and highly crystalline, and often contained large masses of white calcareous spar. It was distinctly stratified, and occasionally exhibited obscure traces of what might be fossils, but which were too indistinct to be relied upon. The principal mass of snow seen was nearly due south of my encampment, but this was probably owing to the northerly exposure of the mountains on that side. The vegetation observed during the day was scanty in the extreme; Eurotia, a Saussurea with very viscid leaves, Oxytropis chiliophylla, and Biebersteinia odora being almost the only plants on the stony slopes and shingle during the first half of the way. On the gravelly plain there was no vegetation at all, but on its margins a few scattered plants were occasionally to be found, a Pyrethrum and two or three Cruciferæ being the species noted. The most remarkable plant observed during the day was a species of Alsine in dense hemispherical tufts, a foot or more in diameter. This plant (the moss of Moorcroft's visit to Garu, and of other travellers in and on the borders of Tibet) is a common Tibetan plant at very great elevations, 16,000 feet being perhaps not far from its lowest level[25].

On the 17th my road lay entirely along the gravelly plain in a direction always considerably to the west of north. The plain gradually narrowed as I advanced, and came to an end by contracting into a rocky ravine, just as I halted for the day. The mountains on the left were still very lofty; one glacier was seen on that side. On the right the mountains were lower and quite without snow, but extremely rugged and rocky. The slope of the valley was scarcely perceptible, but I found at the end of my day's journey, which amounted to twelve miles, that I had risen above 700 feet, the height of my encampment being a little more than 16,700 feet. The day was bright and sunny, and the stream, which, in the morning was quite insignificant, not three feet wide and scarcely ankle-deep, had increased much by the afternoon, and had become of a dirty red colour. It was twenty feet wide, and a foot and a half deep, where I crossed it just before halting. The vegetation was still more scanty than the day before, though most of the plants then noted were again seen occasionally. Small tufts of a little Stipa were not uncommon, constituting almost the only food for cattle, as patches of green grass, a few feet in diameter, were only seen twice during the day. Two very small Saussureæ formed dense tufted masses on the surface of the ground, and a little rose-coloured Astragalus spread itself prostrate over the gravel; indeed, this mode of growth seemed to be characteristic either of the climate or soil, as I found, though rarely, a species of Myricaria, with short thick wiry branches lying flat on the ground and spreading into patches a yard in diameter.

Not far from the point where the direction of the valley changed so suddenly, the blue or greyish massive but brittle limestone of the higher mountains gave place to a rock of a very different appearance. This was also a limestone, perfectly white, or with a very faint yellowish or greyish tinge, and either quite amorphous, with a saccharine texture, and often honeycombed, or composed of a congeries of very minute crystals. Occasionally, but rarely, rolled pebbles were seen in it. No traces of stratification were anywhere discoverable, in which respect it differed very strikingly from the limestone of the previous day, in which lines of stratification, much contorted, were well seen in many sections exposed at different heights. This remarkable limestone formed the rock on both sides of the gravelly plain during the greater part of the day's journey. In one place only metamorphic slate was seen below it, dipping at a high angle to the north-east. The limestone was extremely brittle, and the cliffs terminated above in sharp pinnacles of the most fantastic shapes, while at the base they were covered with heaps of angular debris[26]. A coarse conglomerate replaced the limestone during the last mile previous to my encamping.

On the 18th of August, after following for a few hundred yards the course of the stream through a narrow rocky gorge, the road turned abruptly to the right, up a dry stony ravine, ascending rather rapidly. The coarse conglomerate of the lower part of this ravine was succeeded by a coarse sandstone, and that again by an incoherent alluvial conglomerate with a clayey matrix. After a short distance, the ravine widened out into a narrow, gravelly, moderately steep valley, with low rounded hills on either side. By degrees, as I increased my elevation, superb snowy mountains came in sight to the south-west, and on attaining the top of the ascent an open, gravelly, somewhat undulating plain lay before me, while behind a grand snowy range was seen in perfection, forming apparently a continuous chain, with a direction from south-east to north-west. The snow was to the eye perfectly continuous in both directions as far as the mountains were visible, and appeared everywhere to lie on the mountain-sides to three and four thousand feet below their tops. As I had passed through this apparent chain of mountains without rising above 16,000 feet, the continuity of the snowy mass was of course a deception. Many very lofty peaks rose above the others at intervals. The height of the more distant ones I could not venture to estimate, but I felt at the time fully convinced that a very high peak, just opposite to me, and distant, according to bearings taken afterwards, about ten miles (in a direct line) from the edge of the plain, was 6000 or 7000 feet higher than the ground on which I stood, or at least 24,000 feet above the level of the sea. I do not wish that any great degree of confidence should be placed on this estimate, but I think it right that I should state my impression at the time, formed without any wish to exaggerate.

The stream along which I had ascended during the two last days lay in a deep ravine far below the level of the plain. Its source was evidently not far distant, and it issued no doubt from a large glacier at the head of the gorge, though the slight upward slope of the plain to the west prevented me from seeing its precise origin. In a northerly direction the plain appeared to extend for six or seven miles, and beyond it lay several ranges of mountains running from east to west, but only very moderately patched with snow. Eastward the plain diminished slightly in elevation for four or five miles, at which distance there was a low range of hills, and immediately at their foot a small stream apparently running to the northward. Beyond these low hills were a number of lofty black peaks to the northward of the great mass of snow, on the further side of which the country probably dips to the eastward in the direction of Khoten. Every one of my guides positively denied the existence of any road in that direction; afraid, perhaps, that I might attempt to proceed by it; for I learned afterwards, on my return to Le, from a merchant of Yarkand, that there was an unfrequented path by which Khoten might be reached, if the Chinese authorities were willing to permit it to be used.

My road lay across the open plain in a direction very little west of north. The surface of the ground was covered with a few boulders and many small pebbles, for the most part rolled, and very various in composition; granite, greenstones of many sorts, amygdaloid, limestone, and different-coloured slates, being all seen. Many of these were encrusted with a calcareous concretion, and the whole plain had the appearance of having formerly been the bed of a lake. Skeletons and scattered bones of horses indicated with great exactness the road across this arid tract, which seemed to be almost destitute of either animal life or vegetation. The only living beings seen were a few ravens, a hoopoe, and a small bird somewhat like a sparrow. Tufts of the moss-like Alsine, referred to on the 17th, were the only vegetation, except in the bed of a little rivulet near the middle of the plain, which produced a few specimens of Saussurea and Sibbaldia. This streamlet rose in a large patch of snow about half a mile to the westward, and ran towards the east, turning afterwards nearly due north along the foot of a low range of hills mentioned above. The elevation of its bed, which was the lowest part of the table-land in the direction in which I crossed it, was 17,300 feet, and the lowest part of the plain was immediately under the low hills to the eastward, where it probably was about 17,000 feet.

There was no snow on the plain, except one patch close to its highest part, in which the little rivulet had its source, and a very few remnants on the shady side of a low undulating ridge, which crosses it near its northern border. After about five miles, having been ascending very gradually since leaving the banks of the stream, I passed through an opening between two low gravelly hills, and found myself looking down upon a wide valley, into which I descended very gradually along a dry ravine. Passing a small patch of swampy, grassy ground, at which I left my horse with a servant till my return, as there was no food for him further on, I arrived, about two miles from the point at which the valley just came in sight, at a small river about thirty feet wide and ankle-deep, running from east to west. According to the information of my guides, this was the river which runs past Sassar,—in fact, the Shayuk. None of them had followed its course, but they assured me that there was no doubt of the accuracy of their statement, which indeed is confirmed by the fact (which I mention on the authority of Yarkand merchants) that formerly travellers used to ascend the Shayuk from Sassar, in order to reach the Karakoram pass, instead of pursuing the circuitous route by which I travelled; but that about ten or twelve years ago the glaciers above Sassar descended so low as entirely to prevent any one passing in that direction, for which reason it became necessary to adopt a new road[27].